


marooned, take #2

by hereticks



Category: Daredevil (TV), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: I'm sorry Tony, Timeline What Timeline, fun times fun friends, my garbage sense of humour, no beta yikes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-15 11:31:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18072632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereticks/pseuds/hereticks
Summary: All communications are down,  JARVIS left him not too long ago, bits and pieces of his armour were flying off like tin foil, and here he was sailing (in more of a downwards spiral than anything really) into an endless forest that was in the middle of buttfuck nowhere.And when he meets the angry blind kid who miraculously nursed him back to health, well, the day couldn't get any worse, could it?first fic in this hellhole that is ao3 wish me luck bois





	marooned, take #2

Tony Stark was in a Shitty Situation.

Shitty Situations had been steadily increasing ever since he built the clunky suit of armour to escape that terrorist bunker not that long ago-- and while his time as the Iron Man was fulfilling and enthralling, it was (though he'd never admit it) painfully terrifying at times. 

Times when he's ricocheting through the sky like a dysfunctional frisbee, his armour peeling apart, completely isolated and unable to reach anyone— not Pepper, not Rhodey.

The endless green sheet underneath him was beginning to look less and less like pretty scenery and more and more like it would be very, very dangerous for one were to, perhaps, initiate a crash landing. The inventor clenched his teeth as he braced for an incoming Red Pine and programmed whatever remaining systems in his suit to shield him from his rapid descent. He almost screamed when the impact finally came. A branch was pierced through his leg. There was another speared through his arm.

Fuck.

His helmet was knocked off during the fall, and the blood from the head wound was dripping into his eyes. His mind spun as he dropped gracelessly from branch through branch. Not a proud day for Tony Stark, genius, playboy, billionaire philanthropist, he thought, as the final branch gave way to less than comforting ground as his world shuddered and turned to black.  

\---  

Somewhere not so far away from the marooned billionaire, a certain boy perked up as the whistling noise he had been hearing for over the past couple of minutes reached its end with a series of ugly-sounding crashes. Grabbing his bow, he set out to find the source of the crash-- the first generally non-woodsy sound to come into his radar in the last two months. As he drew closer, the boy found himself taking in the coppery scent of blood. He advanced at a quicker pace and found himself, strangely relieved, at the sound of the faint flutter of an unconscious heartbeat. He felt the telltale (and deservedly missed) flicker of another human being, but the thing that seemed to be imbedded into his chest bathed his world on fire like a bonfire. Without a second thought, the boy adjusted himself to carry the wounded man (definitely a man) back to his shelter.   

The boy quickly set to tending to the man, force-feeding him with Stick's cure-all. There was very little of it left, and since no-one, least of all the nuns from St. Agnes, were there to hear him, he said, “Fuck.” The person was still alive, despite the grievous fall and extensive injuries he had seemed to have sustained. Unconscious, but alive. It made him apprehensive as to how the person, whoever he was, would act when he was finally awake.  The boy took a deep breath, and waited.        

  ---   

Tony did not, as he had initially expected, wake up in Hell. 

Instead his bleary vision was greeted with a small, and undeniably crude little wooden room. Lifting himself up to a sitting position, he surveyed his surroundings groggily, mind already drawing parallels between his current situation and Siberia. 

"What am I looking at?" He mumbled. 

Inside the little room was only minimal furniture-- some shelves, stacked fully with herbs and berries. Tools lined another corner (Tony subtly noted that the bladed ones had been removed), and the floor was covered with soft-looking leaves, and his own bed was stitched together using a vast combination of different furs. When he looked down, the inventor could see that the wounds he had sustained in his tree diving were thoroughly stitched up and covered using makeshift bandages. 

Tony winced. There were a lot of them. 

And he must have blinked or something, because next minute, there was a figure standing beside the bed, and Tony tried to move, because shit, this guy came out of nowhere and he had nothing-- no gun, no suit--

"I wouldn't do that," the figure advised. "I spent a lot of time on making sure you weren't going to bleed to death." 

He squinted, trying to force his eyes (and brain) back to gear. "What do you want with me?" The billionaire croaked. Fuck, his throat was as dry as a desert. 

"Go back to sleep."

And because his eyes were drooping anyway, and some of the fear had gone away and replaced with the certainty that the man wasn't going to kill him (not yet at least), he did. 

 ---

The next time Tony woke up, everything was a lot clearer. The man-- no,  _boy,_ who had nursed him into a state of non-death was stitching up a rip in one of the most well-worn shorts the inventor had ever seen in his life. 

"So, it sounds like you're awake," the boy said dryly, not even pausing in his task. 

Tony cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah, it seems so, huh." There was an awkward silence, though one that the strange little boy seemed perfectly content in extending. The other man wasn't, though. He needed answers; basic ones, like  _where the fuck am I,_  and who _the fuck are you._ Instead, Tony opts to repeat the question asked in their previous encounter:

"What do you want with me?" 

"Depends on what you have on the table." 

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" 

The boy stops, pausing to put down the bone needle and sinew carefully on the floor, and turned to face him. His general direction, anyway. 

"It means," he says slowly, "That I spent a lot of time, a lot of resources on your health. Non-renewable resources, for the sake of your survival. What can you do to further insure mine?" His unfocused eyes don't quite meet Tony's, and he realised, with no small amount of surprise, that the kid is  _blind._

So instead of answering his question, Tony says: "Oh shit, you're blind."

"Huh, really? I guess I've never noticed," the boy reverts back to that oh-so-dry tone. He snaps his fingers. "So?"

"You live here? With a guardian, or something?" 

The blind boy frowned. "No," he said quietly. "Your voice is the first I have heard in... months." Oh, that didn't bode well. 

The silence persists for a while, before Tony breaks it yet again. "I can get us out of here."

Instant reaction. The boy perked, sightless eyes widened. "What?" 

"Yeah," He grinned, sitting up a little straighter. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Tony Stark, billionaire, genius and inventor, and if you help me, we can be out of here in the next couple of weeks. That is, unless you want to." 

"I thought your voice sounded familiar." The boy mulled it over. "But it's a lot more complicated than that. If you are who you say you are, I have to... I have to think about it."

"Okay," Tony allowed. It was a start at least. "And, pray tell, what is your name, kiddo?"

The boy in question hesitated. Then, haltingly:

"Matthew. My name is Matthew Murdock."

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> so, uh, that was. a thing that i wrote that is so confusing, even to me. all i can hope for is feedback. hopefully this wasn't garbage.
> 
> i'm not sure of much, but this is meant to take place a little before the whole avengers ordeal so
> 
> flip a coin and see if i will ever continue this, my motivation is the visual equivalent of a dumpster fire. 
> 
> yeah that's all folks


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